Hey Princess
by deansbrave
Summary: She's been with the Winchesters for years now
1. Dude, No Chick Flick Moments

She had been traveling with the Winchester brothers for some time now, and it was nice. At times. Other times it was hell (ha.)

"How long have you been hangin' around Princess?" Dean asked one day, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Uh…going on four years now I think." She answered. Dean smiled easily at her.

"And in that time how often have we gone a vacation."

"Never." She responded moving from her seat at the table. They were in the bunker's library doing some light research for a couple different cases Sam and picked up.

"How would you like a vacation?"

She stopped just as she was about to put the book back on the shelf. She narrowed her eyes, unsure whether to believe the slightly older male or not.

"You serious?"

"Yeah just me and you."

Now that's where she had to pause and think. It wasn't like she was blind to Dean's charm (for fucks sakes she'd been with the man 24/7 for the last four years of her life) and it was no contest that he was handsome. They had spent a lot of time over the years sitting together in bars getting drunk and getting to know each other. She would call Dean her best friend…if she actually had friends anymore to compare him to.

"Dean-"

"Now don't worry your pretty little head Princess; I ain't trying to get in your pants. Have you looked at you lately?"

She openly glared at him now. "Winchester, Winchester, Winchester. Is it just me…or have you started to get soft 'round the middle there?"

Dean pursed his lips, looking down at his hands folded in his lap, nodding. "You win this round Princess."

"I win all the rounds Winchester."

"So what do you say?"

"Do we even have the time, or money, for a vacation? I thought we were working on two different hunts here."

"Exactly. I was thinkin' we'd split up. Me and you take the salt and burn in Cali, and Cas and Sam take the werewolf in Mississpi."

She raised an eyebrow. "So what? We take care of the salt and burn, and just…chill for a bit?"

"Exactly."

"You wanna spend an entire week, with just me? No Sam around to act as a buffer?"

"Just you and me, Princess."

She put the book back on the shelf, her back to Dean.

"So whattaya say?"

She smiled at Dean. "Why not? Could be fun."

* * *

"Okay, that one chick back in uh… oh God… the one who kinda looked like me?"

"Still on one to ten here?"

"Yeah."

"Twenty."

She whistled low. To pass the time on long car rides, while Sam slept in the back, they would talk about past conquests, rating them.

"You got a good look at her, what would you have given her?"

"Well ten cause she looked like me and, c'mon. _Have_ you looked at me?" She grinned, trying not to laugh at her own joke. "But she looked kinda… not all with it you feel? So like a six."

"You are one harsh grader. I'm scared to think what I'd rate on your list."

"Oh I dunno. Probably high."

"Yeah?" Dean grinned, cocky as he always did when he flirted, but she knew better than to think he was flirting with her. "Why's that?"

She looked away and shrugged. There were a lot of things she could tell Dean but… emotions just weren't her strong suit. And like Dean she hid them behind a mask of sarcasm, feigned contentment, and alcohol.

"Aw, C'mon Princess! You can tell me! Is it the pouty lips?" Dean looked away from the road to purse him lips theatrically at her, eliciting a loud raucous laughter that he joined in. "Or is it the eyes. All the ladies say I have pretty green eyes."

"I've got green eyes too asshat, their not that special."

"Then what is it?"

Dean would never be one to admit something like this but years of being with someone like her, she had started to grow on him. Originally he tried to bed her every chance he could (that's just what he did, and _come on_ how could any dude say no to this chick?) but after a while he just realized that wasn't what he wanted. She was funny, smart, and she listened to him when he couldn't turn to anyone else. Now he would never use _that _word but…it was damn close. He cared about her, he worried about her. And she did the same for him.

She bit her lip, speaking only loud enough to be heard over the wind from the open windows, and the sound of Led Zepplin playing quietly in the background. "Cause I got a weak spot for you Dean."

Dean hadn't been expecting that. If he was honest he thought that if he ever told her how he felt, she'd just run away. Because that's what people did. If he showed even the slightest bit of giving a damn about someone, they always left him. No exceptions. He left people before they could leave him-it hurt less that way. But he was selfish, and he wanted to keep her around as long as he could.

"Dean?"

"Me too."

"What?"

"I've…got a weak spot for you too."

"I thought you weren't going to try and get in my pants on this trip asshole!" She tried to laugh, but it came out strained and forced, trying to (unsuccessfully) ease the tension in the Impala.

He looked at her then. Straight in the eye, determination and…something softer in his gaze. She wouldn't call it love-love was too much. Too real. If they allowed themselves to love then they were only going to be burned by it. What they felt for each other was already too much of a liability. Especially in their line of work.

"I'm serious. I-I care about you." And fuck, that had to be the most difficult thing he's ever had to say to anyone. She looked away, unsure of what she was supposed to say to that. Because every failed relationship said this is where she always fucked up. _"I love you" _one boyfriend had said, his tone hopeful and expectant, _"That's…nice. Thank you."_ She had replied, her tone unsure, and unwilling. A week later and the relationship was over.

"I…I feel the same way." She answered honestly. This was probably the only alone time they would ever really get together-so it was best to make it count, and just say what needed to be said. Dean glanced away from the road again briefly, to give her a smile-which she returned. Dean returned his eyes to the road, slowly he sought out her hand, lacing their fingers. She jerked her hand away.

"Dude, aw, c'mon. No chick flick moments; I swear to God all this sappy shit's gonna make me puke."

Dean barked out a laugh. "You want me to pullover? I think I need to puke too-there's too much nice in here."

"I can fix that. You're fat and you fuck whores." She grinned at him, wide and toothy.

"Yeah well, you look like shit all the time and I'm amazed you can even get a guy."

"I just got you didn't I?"

Dean pursed his lips and looked out the window.

"Admit it Winchester-you planned this entire trip just to get in my pants."

He smiled, shaking his head. "You got me Princess. You got me long as you want me."


	2. Hey Princess

He didn't know what he was doing here, or why he was even here. He knew he shouldn't be bothering her, what would she even want to do with him? They had only gone on a few hunts together, it wasn't like he knew her very well, but here he was. He could see her approaching the door through the glass panels, he tried to prepare himself; he had no business being here. He wouldn't be surprised if she turned him away.

The second she opened the door, her smile disappeared.

"Dean? What are you doing here?"

"Hey… Princess. Can, uh can I come in?"

She looked him up and down, trying to take him in.

"Dean what happened?"

"Can we… can we talk about it inside?" He willed his voice not to crack, he was on the verge of crying again. And he wasn't about to cry in front of her.

"Yeah. Yeah, come on in." She stepped to the side, pulling the door open wider, allowing the broken man into her home.

"Uh…do you have any beer…maybe?"

"Sure. Have a seat in the living room. Are-are you hungry or…?"

Dean shook his head. "Just a beer would be nice Princess."

When she returned with his beer she sat down across from him. "Dean. What happened?"

"Me and Sammy stopped the apocalypse."

"I'm sorry I ran-"

"Stop. I don't wanna talk about it."

"Right, sorry."

"Sammy…Sammy's gone. Ain't coming back."

"You can…stay here if you want Dean. As long as you want. Unless you got somewhere else to be?"

Dean looked at the beer in his hands.

"I'll get the guest bedroom set up for you."

When she returned Dean was still sitting on the couch, face in his hands, shoulders shaking.

"Dean?"

He stopped instantly, taking in a deep breath. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine Princess. What's the guest room situation look like?"

"Uh, fine. You can head on up if you like."

Dean brushed past her as he walked by. He stopped half way up the stairs, and looked over his shoulder at her.

"Princess?"

"Yeah?" She turned to face him.

"Thank you."

"Sure thing Winchester."


	3. Apple Pie Life

_**A/N: These stories follow no set time line. The are snap shots taken from the relationship of Dean and Princess. As of right now she has no name, or physical description. That may change in later chapters**_

* * *

It wasn't the apple pie life like Dean thought it would be, but it was nice, it was safe. It wasn't long after he found her, that he officially moved in. He found a job as a mechanic; after all it was what he knew best. It was an easy life. Sometimes he'd pick up the groceries, or dinner, and in return she let him stay. She let him find comfort in her; not in the physical sense. But if he needed someone to just sit next to him, just so he wouldn't as alone even for just a few minutes, she was there. Sometimes she would hold his hand, give him reassuring squeezes, and sometimes he would squeeze back. Sometimes, after he had drunken himself into yet another stupor she was lead him back to his room help him out of his dirty work clothes ease him into bed, and she would just sit there until he fell asleep. Her presence beside him was always comforting. So no, it was not the apple pie life Dean envisioned for himself, but it was his life.

Sometimes he considered trying to be something more with her. But he was scared, he wasn't ready to let anyone in like that; not ever again. He couldn't stand to lose her too. He found himself thinking sometimes, that if he ever maned up, he could have that life. Move out of her shitty apartment, maybe find a house, get married, have a couple kids. But that's not what fate had in store for Dean Winchester. Oh no. As it turned out, when he picked her up from work that day (her car was in the shop) there was an unexpected guest sitting at their table.

"Sammy?"

* * *

It was a blur after that. There was a fight, she remembers. Her table splintered into large pieces of wood, pots and pans strewn throughout the kitchen, some broken plates that had been in the dish holder next to the sink. It was clear, only after Sam had pinned Dean down, that he was indeed Sam, and nothing else.

"How long have you been back?" Dean asked from his seat on the couch. Sam stood leaning against the doorway of the kitchen. Dean winced, pulling his hand back as She dabbed anti-septic on it. She rolled her eyes, pulling his hand back, and bandaging it.

"A while."

"And you didn't say anything?" Dean snapped.

"You were out Dean. I wanted to, but Bobby said you'd found…" Sam looked pointedly at the young woman.

"That doesn't mean you can't pick up a fucking phone and say "Hey, guess what, I'm not dead!'"

"Dean, calm down." She spoke softly.

"Princess, can you give me and Sam a minute alone?"

"After what you two did to my kitchen? Not a chance in hell."

"Sam, why are you here? Why now?" Dean demanded standing up, giving his injured hand a few clenches, testing it.

"I need your help Dean."

She always knew that something would pull Dean away. Don't get it wrong, she was thrilled to have Sam back. Really she was. But she was selfish, and she wanted Dean to stay. Dean had always only been one foot in this life. He wasn't cut out for the apple pie life. He wasn't meant to be in her life. So when Dean said he'd be home in a few days, she just smiled. If that's what he had to believe then fine. But she knew. God did she know; Dean was meant to hunt things, save people. After all, as he had told her once, it was the family business.


	4. When You Can't Sleep At Night

She didn't go on hunts often anymore. She was better off as the researcher. It wasn't that she was a bad hunter-she wasn't. But she knew she was a better researcher. And with the attention span those brothers had they needed her to sit down, and focus, and find what they needed.

Some hunts the brothers came out fine. Others left them scared, and changed. It was on nights when they returned from hunts like that, that he came seeking comfort in her arms. She never denied him, never said a word, just held him close.

It was three am when she felt her bed dip. She never said a word, but something about Dean felt different. She did what she always did, what Dean needed her to do, and pretended to be asleep. He grunted, and twisted around, kicking off his socks, and taking off his layers, trying to make himself more comfortable.

But this night was different, this night he did something she didn't expect. He spoke.

"A kid died tonight."

She jumped only a little, surprised by the sound of his voice.

"A kid. Not like a teenager, or someone younger than us. An actual kid. Only seven."

She turned, chest to chest with the man in her bed.

"Are you alright?"

"I had to tell a mother tonight, that her son is dead. I…I don't think…" He shook his head, eyes focusing on the wall behind her. She reached up, placing her hands on his face, pulling him down into her embrace. She held tight, and he held tighter; letting her anchor him in reality.

"It's alright." She soothed, running her hand up and down his back. He hid his face in the crook of her neck, his stubble tickling her.

"It was a kid. Just a kid. He deserved better, he deserved to live, it's all my fault."

She didn't say anything, just let Dean hold her. They stayed like that for a long time. Neither speaking, nor sleeping.

"I'm sorry." Dean finally spoke what felt like hours later.

"For what?" She spoke softly.

"For putting all this shit on you."

"It's fine Dean. I don't mind."

Dean sighed, dropping his head further into her neck, "I wish you did."


	5. You're Already Gone

"Dean what the hell is your problem tonight?" She hissed.

"I see how it is alright Princess? You'd rather go home with one of these guys, then spend another minute with me, so just go ahead and fucking leave already." Dean lifted the whiskey to his mouth.

"What the fuck is making you think I'd want that?"

Dean looked at her, an ugly smirk on his face. It made her want to crawl under a rock, and hide. A lot of what Dean did lately made her want to do that. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"I see the way you look at other guys. Don't play. You're just a little whore looking for her next lay."

She slapped him across that face as hard as she could muster. "Don't you dare talk to me like that. Don't you sit there and think that I haven't been faithful to you, cause I have. I am faithful Dean; you're the one who sleeps around! So don't you project your guilt onto me you sorry son of a bitch!" She turned away from him, heading across the room to the bar. She sat at a stool back to Dean, while he stared at his glass.

"Refill?"

He looked up at the waitress. "Sure."

"You and your girlfriend have a fight? I saw her hit you."

"She's not my girlfriend. I don't know what she is."

"You know, if you're look-"

"Save your breath sweetheart. I ain't interested."

She just smiled easily and shrugged. "Suit yourself. I'll be right back with your drink."

She could feel his eyes burning a hole into her back. But she wasn't going to let him see her sweat. She hadn't been sitting at the bar long when a man walked up to her.

"I couldn't help but no-"

"Let me save you the trouble." She sighed, taking another sip of her drink. She was pleasantly drunk at this point in the night, and she just didn't want to think anymore. "I'm here with someone."

"I don't see him."

"Doesn't mean he ain't watchin'" She slurred.

"Look, sweet heart, you don't have to lie to me."

"Ain't lyin'" She took another sip of her drink. He leaned in close, brushing the hair away from her ear, and neck.

"Let me buy you a drink."

"I told you, I ain't interested."

"Don't lie to the man, Princess."

She looked up, Dean stood beside her; tall, shoulders back, eyes burning.

"Dean-"

"You wanna fuck him?"

"Dean!" She hissed.

"Go ahead. I ain't gonna stop you."

"Well look there. I got the a-okay." The guy tried leaning in, she struggled trying to push him away.

"I told you no!" She snapped, trying to release her wrists from the strange man's grip. Dean watched, becoming more, and more angry by the second. He pulled the younger woman off her stool, releasing her from the strangers grasp and sending her straight onto the floor. She yelped in fright, watching as Dean hit the man. It quickly turned into a full on brawl, only stopping when the bartender pulled Dean off the man. Dean came out with nothing more than swollen and bloodied knuckles. The man however would be needing a trip to the ER.

"Take your boyfriend, and get the fuck out of here!" The bartender pulled her up off the floor, giving her a rough shove into Dean. He easily caught her. She pushed him away, storming out of the bar.

Dean followed her out of the bar, towards the Impala. She sat sideways in the passenger side of the car, feet on the asphalt.

"Princess?"

"I just thought, you know, we could have like one night out. Just you and me, cause all it's been lately is "We have to find Abbadon. I need the blade." And I just…I don't know you anymore Dean."

He kneeled down, placing a hand on her knee. "What do you want?"

"I want you back!" She screamed. "Ever since you got that… thing. You're not you Dean. I don't know who or what you are, but I…" She sighed, placing her face in her hands. "I just want you back."

"I never left."

She looked up at him, her smile watery. Maybe it was the whiskey that made her say it, or maybe it was the weeks of pent up emotions. But her words rang through his head, chilling his blood, and stopping his heart.

"What you've done Dean? There's no taking it back. You left. And this time...you're not coming back."


	6. And Then You Walked Through My Door

**Princess finally gets a name and physical description in this chapter**

* * *

"Dean why are we stopping?" Sam sighed. It was sunset as they traveled down the highway.

"Sign said there was a bar up ahead, we're stopping at the bar."

"Dean this isn't the time for-"

"Get your mind outta the gutter Sammy. I'm hungry and I need to take a leak; it's not always about gettin' my dick wet." Besides there wasn't exactly time for that, not with the apocalypse looming over head.

"Whatever."

Dean rolled his eyes. Sam had just been a real peach ever since that incident with The Trickster-_Gabriel._ It was easy for Dean to forget that prick was an angel. Then again the dickishness finally made sense. "We're stopping for two hours tops Sammy. Then we're back on the road on the hunt for The Colt."

They pulled into the gravel parking lot. It was full of Harleys, and a few classic (beat up) cars. Dean tsked as they walked by a particularly beat up '71 Firebird. Dean looked up at the sign of the bar as they walked in.

_Lyon's Den Bar and Grill. Come for the burgers stay for the drinks!_

Like with any bar they went to they put themselves at the corner table, backs to the wall, able to see the entirety of the bar. Dean flagged down the closest waitress he could. She waved in acknowledgement finishing cleaning down the bar. For a place that seemed so out of the way, it was really busy.

"What's with the crowd?" Dean asked as she stood beside their table. She wasn't tall, about 5'2" at the most. Her hair was long, pulled back into a thick ponytail; in the lighting it looked like mahogany. She didn't look like she belonged here.

"Only bar till Kansas. Lotta traffic comes through here." She explained. "So what can I get ya?"

Dean took her in with an appreciative eye. He had promised Sam no hooking up, but he could look. "Well Princess, I saw your sign outside said something about burgers?"

"Whatcha want on it?"

"Double patty, double bacon, double cheese, and just go ahead and smother it in onions."

She grinned "And to drink?"

"Two bottles of Bud Light."

"And what can I get for you sweetie?" She smiled at Sam.

"You wouldn't have salad would you?"

She smiled apologetically. "Sorry, we don't. But the country fried steak comes with a side of veggies."

Sam sighed, "Then I'll have that."

"And what would you like to drink?"

"Coke."

"I'll put that order right in, and be back with your drinks."

Dean watched her walk away, eyes drawn right to her ass.

"Dean."

He rolled his eyes. That was _the voice_. The _don't even think about it Dean, we deal with enough shit as it is, I will kill you in your sleep if you fuck this up_ voice. "Dude, our waitress is hot, can you blame me?" It wasn't long before she was back placing their drinks on the table.

"So why's a girl like you workin' in a dump like this?" Dean asked before she could turn to leave.

"I own this dump."

Dean's eyes widened. "I'm sorry I didn't mean-"

"Nah. I know this place could use some work. Thing is, I kinda like the atmosphere, y'know?"

"So Princess-"

"I have a name thank you very much."

"Well what's your name?"

"Only polite to give yours first." She smirked.

The corner of Dean's mouth lifted in a smile. He looked at Sam, who just rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat. How many times had he watched Dean pull this routine? Too many. It got old pretty fast.

"Dean."

"Got a last name to go with that?"

"Just Dean. Now what about you Princess?"

"Logan. Just Logan."

"What kinda name for a girl is Logan?"

"It's a family name. My parents decided I was gonna be the only child they had, and my dad thought I was gonna be a boy so…" She shrugged.

"Didn't take too kindly when you weren't?" Dean supplied.

"Exactly."

"Logan!"

She turned at the call of her name to see a pool table crowded by bikers.

"Another round!"

"Coming up!" She called. She looked at Dean, smiled. "It's gonna be a bit 'fore your meals are done."

Dean watched her go with a smirk on his face. "I'll be right back Sammy."

"Dean."

"I'm going to take a leak Sam. Have some faith in me, Christ. What the hell crawled up your ass and died?"

"Dean we don't have time for any of this!"

Dean sighed, scrubbing his hand down his face. "Just one night Sam. Just one night; _don't_ talk about this shit. I just wanna sit down, and enjoy my meal without any talk of supernatural bullshit okay?"

"Fine."

"Alright. I'm gonna go to the bathroom, and when I get back, we're gonna have a nice night."

Dean headed to the back of the bar, towards the bathroom. The second he finished washing his hands, and looked up in the mirror he jumped, holding back a yell. In the mirrors reflection Castiel stood right behind him.

"Cas."

"Hello Dean."

"I thought you couldn't find me and Sam unless we told you where we were. You know, Enochian carvings?"

"That's why I asked Sam. He said this is where you were."

Dean frowned. That little bitch. Sam knew how much Dean hated when Cas just _popped_ in.

"Why are you here Cas?"

"I've traced a lead on The Colt, as you asked."

"Well at least Sam'll be happy."

They headed back out to the bar, Sam sitting at the table, hunched over his plate of food. Dean slid into his seat, face to face with the most delicious burger he'd ever seen. Cas took the final free seat. The small, red headed waitress made her way back over to them.

"I see you've found a friend." She smiled at Cas, who made eye contact, smiled awkwardly, and looked away. "You want anything to drink honey?"

"He'll have a bud, and while you're at it Princess, would you mind gettin' some ketchup too?" Dean asked

"I have a name, and it is Logan. If you use it, _maybe_ I'll get that for you."

Dean smirked. She was a little shit. He liked that. "Well _Logan_. That's just too much of a guy's name. See, you're a really pretty girl; so you seem more like a Princess than a Logan to me."

She smirked. "Y'know Dean. I want to hate you, really I do. But you're just making it too hard for me. I'll be right back with that drink and some ketchup."

"So Cas traced a lead on The Colt." Dean spoke softly once their waitress was out of earshot.

Sam looked up, finally seeming interested. "And?"

"There is a demon. His name is Crowley."

They turned their heads as they heard a crash. One of the bikers had jumped up onto the bar, a sick grin on his face.

"Ronald David O'Riley. What have I told you about startin' shit in my bar?" Logan yelled up at the giant of a man. He was nearly as tall as Sam, and at least twice the size.

He looked down at the red-headed woman, eyes flashing black. Her eyes widened as she stumbled backwards into a shelf of liquor. "Sweetheart, Ronald's dead. This meat suit ain't nothing but my summer vacation home. Now why don't you shut your little mouth, and I'll make sure when I kill you, it doesn't hurt too much."

"Just once, I want to have a meal without any demons, or angels, or _dicks_ ruining it." Dean sighed.

"Winchesters. How _lucky_ of us to run into you here. My father has been searching high and low for you Sammy boy!"

"He need's my consent. And he isn't gonna get it." Sam snapped.

"Either way you're the only one that counts. Boys, kill the angel and the wanna be model."

The first demon to move went for Castiel first which was a mistake. In a matter of seconds the bar was filled with a bright white-blue light, the demons vessel dropping to the ground, smoke rising from the body's empty eye sockets.

"What're you waiting for, fuckin' get'em!" The demon on the bar shouted. The entire place erupted into chaos. Dean remembers a demon all but riding him, and getting pulled off. He remembers watching small, red haired Logan splash what only could've been holy water on the demon; cause next thing he knows is that thing is wailing and she's reciting Latin like a pro. Dean distinctly remembers watching Cas smite demons, Sam using the knife, and then the place was burning. One of the bastards had gotten away and set a fire in the kitchen.

"I'm really sorry about your bar." Dean stood next to the younger looking woman who seemed almost entranced by the smoldering pile of ashes. For being so far away from any town, the fire department had arrived pretty fast.

"Your name is Winchester." It was a statement not a question.

"Yeah."

"I've heard a lotta stories about the Winchester brothers. Never thought I'd get to meet them."

"So this was a bar for hunters?"

"Mmhm. Every man that was possessed in there tonight…they were all hunters."

"Do you got anywhere to go?"

She shook her head. "I lived there. I was a hunter for a while. Back when I was still a teenager. I gave up about five years ago. Set up shop here, familiar faces passed through, next thing I knew I was doing research, and passing on hunts to whoever came through those doors. It was nice, it was safe. Almost normal." She sighed heavily then, looking up at Dean, fixing him with an icy gaze. "But then Sam and Dean Winchester walk through my door, and that all goes to shit. Those stories I heard were all right. You guys are just one disaster after another."

"Princess, I'm sorry."

"Save your sorry's for someone who cares Dean."

"If you want…me and Sam could give you a ride. Where ever you want."

When he looked at her and all he could see in her was broken, scared, and just tired. So _tired._ "It's the least you could do."


End file.
